Her Umbrella is a women's digital, lifestyle magazine dedicated to creating a life outside the lines. Published quarterly during the changing of the seasons, you'll find a bohemian, free-spirited style woven throughout its pages. Every woman has an umbrella with a variety of likes, dislikes, stories and memories hidden underneath. And we're looking to uncover them. Our winter issue features some heart-hitting stories and festive features intertwined without rhyme or reason. We've nixed the rules and forewent table of contents and the like to be a freer, more unmatched way of exploring. Enjoy!
She is a nurturer. Winter 2015 / Her Umbrella 6
I Had AMiscarriage: A look back onthepast... LAURATOLEDO SHE KNEW SOMETHING WAS WRONG - OR, PERHAPS, WORRIED HERSELF INTO IT - AS SOON AS SHE STARTED TO FEEL BETTER. But she kept going, secure in the knowledge her doctor had confirmed the pregnancy. The spot of blood in her underwear sent her into worry-mode. But her husband assured her everything was fine. Her best friend said the same thing. So she tried not to think about it. That was the only spot, until the following day. They had traveled an hour to get to her parent's house to celebrate birthdays and the 4th of July. She hadn't felt good that day - like she was getting her period. And then the blood started to flow. They had just arrived at her parent's house, and rushed out the door to the local hospital. She waited patiently in line for her turn at the registration desk. "I'm pregnant and bleeding," she said. Everyone behind the desk and in line turned. Tears formed in her eyes but she tried to stay calm. The nurse behind the desk got up to find a triage nurse, as she sat down on a bench close by. She sniffled, trying not to let the tears go yet. The people in line looked sympathetic. Her husband walked in from parking the car and sat next to her on the bench. She let out a single sob. He held her tight as she finally let the tears flow. The nurse sent her to a waiting room. She and her husband sat in silence, holding hands. She was fidgeting, trying to keep the thoughts at bay. They were called back to a room. The nurse took her vital signs, and tried to reassure her that they saw crazier things than what she was experiencing. She tried to be positive. They met with a very young doctor who was awkward in her delivery but sweet, nonetheless. She was asked questions, probed, poked with needles, waited...for four hours. Her and her husband trying to make jokes, keeping tears in or letting them fall. They sent her across the street for an ultrasound. While the nurse was informative, she said nothing about what she found with the instrument. She was dismissed, told they would call her as soon as the results were in. The doctor called her promptly when she arrived home, almost an hour later. She told her that her levels were very low, that they found no evidence in her womb of a pregnancy. She thanked the doctor and hung up the phone. Her body was wracked with sobs - her husband only held her, letting her cry. She didn't know what to say, what to do, what to think. Had she ever been pregnant? Was this all a fluke? She went to work after taking a single day off. She tried to be cheerful, happy - or, at least, tried not to cry. But things hurt, and every once in a while she had to excuse herself from her desk and hide out in the handicap stall, hoping no one noticed her sniffling. Winter 2015 / Her Umbrella 7